


The silence of the Lab

by Lugasenn



Category: Pacific Rim
Genre: 120 percent saccharine, M/M, warning : might contain raspberries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:40:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lugasenn/pseuds/Lugasenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't criticize Newt's musical tastes. Son, just don't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The silence of the Lab

**Author's Note:**

> I promised a fluffy Newt/Hermann fic to Themarginistoosmall if she gave me a prompt.  
> She came up with a quote from Leibniz, that surprisingly allowed me and my love for musician!Newt to run wild. 
> 
> Many thanks to Snowfell for correcting my English ! (go read her fics, she's great)

_“ **Music is a secret arithmetical exercise and the person who indulges in it does not realize that he is manipulating numbers.”**_ _**(Leibniz)** _

 

6:30 a.m; in the lab, the blessed hour. That's what Newt calls it anyway, since it's the hour when he can do pretty much anything with the lab before Hermann shows up. Or more precisely, he can do anything _to_ the lab, which includes blasting some heavy metal through the room, not having to worry about that puff of smoke that is slowly invading the air - and that includes Hermann's side of the lab, and yes, yes he just did that, drawing some cable across the room _over the sacred line._

 

A few minutes before Hermann arrives, he will draw back all his material on his side of the lab, an inch away from _t_ _he line -_ he can't pronounce those words without what he thinks is sarcasm, but really is just a very childish face _._ He knows Hermann will check, and frown, but he won't be able to say a thing, because the limit is respected. A persistent smell keeps floating in the room, long after the puff of smoke has gone, but if Hermann brings this up - and he definitely will-, Newt will deny tooth and nail that he smells anything.  


He will keep the music, though. Hermann will complain about the volume, and because it's not like, Bach's 'Air on a G string', and honestly Newt loves it but he can't rock on it, and if there is something Dr. Newton Geislzer is, it's a rock star. And Hermann complains all the time anyway, so he makes sure to choose some death metal track for when he arrives.

 

Hermann meets every single one of his expectations when he finally enters the room, at 7:30 am sharp, and frowns.  


"How can you hear yourself think over this...noise?"  


Newt turns the volume slightly down, and seems offended.

  
"Good morning to you too, Dr. Gottlieb. Could you please start the day without insulting my mother by qualifying her music as ‘noise’?”  


For a few seconds, Hermann's face is nothing but sheer confusion, starting a "That can't possibly be your mother's music..." , which makes Newt gloat internally - if it weren't for the fact that he has absolutely no poker-face, and his internal gloating takes the form of a broad grin. His colleague doesn't even answer, but his eyes clearly state that he's going to choke him up with some kaiju's intestine at some point.

 

Newt smothers a laugh and puts on earphones as he turns back to his work. When Hermann stops a second time and asks him about the horrible smell that floats around, he simply gestures to his earphones and mouths something like "I can't hear you over the noise" and starts to sing softly over the tune that only he can hear.

 

 

 

When Newt puts down his tray in front of Hermann at the mess, he's not especially looking up for a fight. He's more startled, in some incredulous hilarity.

 

"Dr. Gottlieb, did you really file a complaint about my _musical tastes_?"

Hermann swallows his mouthful of carrots before answering. "Why, yes I did."

  
Newt picks at his own vegetables as he continues: "See, what I don't understand is, you didn't complain about me listening to music while I work..."

 

"Believe me, I already did, and I even sent them a reminder about it yesterday."

Newt ignores him, and keeps going. "Or even the volume. You're actually complaining to our hierarchy about my musical tastes."

 

Hermann squints and says nothing, waiting for him to make his point.

  
"Like, you're actually asking them to take action against my musical tastes."

 

"Yes, they're horrible and someone has to do something about it."

 

Newt puts down his fork in an exasperate gesture. "My musical tastes are like me, absolutely awesome. And I can't work without my music."

  
"And I can't work with your music." replies Hermann, sharply.

  
"I can't work with the obsessive ‘scrich-scrich’ sound your chalk makes."

  
"It possibly can't be more bothersome than the horrible noise you listen to every day."

It's nothing more than their usual bickering, really, and yet Newt seems more stirred by it than usual.

   
"Music. It's called music. If you actually had something else than cold fluid fueled by math pumping through your veins, it would actually make you feel alive for once."

And on those words, he stands up, takes his tray with him and simply leaves without adding another word, leaving behind a very puzzled Hermann, because those dramatic exists are usually his move in their ever-lasting dance of "I hate you/I hate you more". 

 

 

The truth is, Newt is homesick.

That is, as homesick a person who has spent most of his time following his parents on tours, and quickly changed from school to school, to finally being transferred from Shatterdomes to Shatterdomes can be.  


But when you think about it, "home" is supposed to be an anchor, that one thing that doesn't change when everything does, a fixed point amongst the all-too-many variables of the world. Home is a harbor, a safe cocoon.  


Actually, if you opened up a dictionary, you would find, amongst many definitions, something along the lines of:  


_**a.** _ _An environment offering security and happiness._

_**b.** _ _A valued place regarded as a refuge or place of origin.  
_

For Newt, home is his uncle's basement where Gunther showed him that there are so many sounds you can actually create, more than with conventional music instruments. Home is the muffled music that literally rocked him to sleep some nights backstage. Home is those rare moments of happiness at the Gymnasium, where being 12 amongst students who were already 15 or 16 didn't matter when he was on stage with the Black Velvet Rabbits.

That one constant that followed him all his life, is music. Home is music. And in some weird way, he's homesick.

 

He doesn't particularly want to avoid Hermann, but he doesn't especially want him and his oh-always-so-mathematical company.

He knows exactly whom he wants to speak with, and they're not hard to find. You just have to follow the rumbling Ukrainian Hard House booming from the portable speaker that follows them everywhere. It's like having a theme song. A very strange yet very cool theme song for the Kaidanovskys.  


Newt knows everyone doesn't appreciate their musical taste either, yet they had an answer for everyone who dared express criticism to their perfect musical tastes. As Sasha said, "If you have problem with Ukrainian hard house, you have problem with life. And if you have problem with life... maybe we can fix that."  


That's really cool. And that's how Newt starts his conversation with them, and they can only nod in approbation.  


Taking this as an encouragement, he continues. "I mean, Hard House can be really underappreciated, but it's some revolutionary electronic music right there, since it's not limited by only 12 notes. My uncle probably pioneered many sounds used by the Ukrainian Hard House. Or the Hard House in general. I mean, most of it is derived from the Berlin scene anyway." Newt's babbling, and he sees that he has lost the two Russian fellows. If music is the universal language, its actual technique isn't.  


Aleksi looks down at Newt - well he's looking down at anyone, really, but Newt is really short. "What do you want, kid?"  


Newt ignores the fact that it sounds like Gymnasium all over again, and, hands in his pockets, he casually asks, "Well... I used to have this band some years ago. Called the Black Velvet Rabbit. Not the most badass name. We could change it. I mean, if you want to join. That would be totally cool. Awesome, even."  


The couple looks at each other, and starts laughing, as Sasha turns the volume up. It's not possible to have a conversation with music that loud, and the message is clear.  


Newt smiles at them anyway. That's people who are living the music, that's people having passion. That's his kind of people.

 

Not eager to get back to the lab already, he finds refuge in his room. You could say it looks like his teenage room, with posters of monsters. Except the monsters on said posters are real, and the posters are covered with his handwriting about their incredible anatomy, all powerful muscles and silicon skeletons. Basically, the only difference between his room and his side of the lab is that he isn't allowed to bring back some Kaiju parts in there. And also, that there isn't a fridge that he shares with Hermann and where he can steal his food.  


On his desk lie several metal parts, cables and printed circuits, some electronic works to keep himself busy since he doesn't sleep much, and well, you don't achieve 6 PhD at 25 when you sleep 8 hours a night. Plus, sleeping requires shutting your brain off, at least for a bit. And that doesn't happen often. So Newt comes back to what he knows, the basics, before the Kaiju, before even his pioneering work on artificial tissue replication. He keeps his hands busy and a part of his mind too. It's relaxing.  


There is a knock at his door, to which he responds in a very mature way "I AM NOT HERE!" The intruder ignores it and opens up the door. At his desk, Newt grumbles "Yes of course, come on in, just ignore what I say, I'm used to it with Hermman-I-have-a-cane-stuck-up-my..."  


Tendo cuts in: "There you are! Dr. Gottlieb has been looking for you since lunch."  


Newt raises an eyebrow, half-pouting.  


"Really? Shouldn't he be enjoying the silence of the lab?"  


He starts to laugh on his own, and Tendo frowns, aware that he's missing something. Newt snorts as he explains  


"The silence of the lab. Sounds like, the silence of the lambs. Get it?"  


Tendo looks at him deadpan. "And you're one of the most brilliant minds on this planet."  


The scientist doesn't reply, and sighs as he leans back against his chair.  


"So...What was it this time?" enquires Tendo.  


Newt squints behind his glasses. "Did Pentecost send you as our marriage counselor?"  


This time, Tendo smiles. "Oh God no. If I was, it would be a full-time job and I would want a pay raise." Leaning on the wall, staring at the Kaiju grrrroupie, he's waiting for an answer. Newt swings a bit on his swivel chair, like the grown-up he totally is.  


"Let's say we have some disagreements."  


"Yes, nothing new under the sun right here."  


When Newt finally admits it, he can only hear how childish he sounds, and yet he can't express how important this is for him. "We had some...musical disagreements. No, don't start laughing yet come on dude, be cool, I'm not that pathetic. It's just, I love music and Hermann is an arrogant prick who hates everything besides his numbers, because pretty much everything apart from his numbers is a lie. Yes, here you can start laughing because he said that, he said those exact words. It's like working with a machine, do you think he's half Vulcan?"  


Tendo is trying to stay serious because this sounds important to Newt, and from where he stands, he can see the keyboard standing in the corner, not even plugged in, standing up against the wall, probably waiting for a day without giant monster rampaging the Earth to be played again.

"Well... You could always try to make him listen to Shibuya-kei."  


Newt raises his head from his electronic assemblage, puzzled. "What?" Because the idea is hilarious, but not very "Dr. Newt Geiszler Rock Star" like.  


Tendo explains. "Well, Mako makes Raleigh listen to Shibuya-kei. He seems to enjoy it. If you haven't seen those two sharing a pair of earphones, well, good for you, because it's so sweet I might actually get diabetes..." the end of his sentence remains unfinished, because Newt looks at him like he is an undiscovered Kaiju, pointing at him with his index.  


"Right there!"  
  
Tendo looks behind him but, no, definitely, his friend is talking to him. Or about him. With a spark in the eyes that gives him the perfect "mad scientist" look, Newt jumps down his chair, and starts going through all the papers surrounding his desk. He finally kneels to some drawers, respectively labeled "top secret" and "bottom secret", and pulls out a file that he opens, before whining with exasperation.

 

"It's not there...it's not there why isn't it there oh God I know where it is."

He jumps back on his feet and grips Tendo by the shoulder, with so much intensity that he adds: "Wow calm down there, I'm a married man", but Newt just ignores it, and babbles excitedly something about Tendo being the coolest dude ever, seriously man, some major scientific breakthrough, and dammit he has to find those notes right now, and he storms out of the room.

 

 

Newt runs down to the lab. His notes, dammit where did he put them? Don't tell him it's those random papers he used to wipe some Kaiju blue off, please, oh please...oh no it's good, not those, we're good, those readings were from last week anyway.  


Here it is, yes, of course it was here, he's not that messy after all, he's very organized in his own way, no matter what Hermann says. Hermann. Yes of course, he has to tell Hermann.  


"Hemann ?"  


His colleague is writing some equations on his board, as usual, but he is ignoring him or... Is he actually...  


For a second, Newt opens his mouth, but he can't produce any sound. He finally shouts "DR. GOTTLIEB!", and that seems to catch his attention.  


"Oh...I..." Hermann clears up his throat, "Sorry, I..." he starts, before being cut off by a rather dismayed Newt.  


"Dr. Gottlieb, are those my ear buds?" His voice carries some sort of hilarity and amazement at the same time.

  
Confusion crawls all over Hermann's face as he picks one earphone out of his ear, not knowing what to do with it now that he has been caught.

  
"I...do not completely hate your musical tastes", he finally offers. "Actually, I really like some of those songs."

  
Newt bites his bottom lip, trying not to grin too blatantly, and crosses the little space between them to pick up the ear-bud from Hermann's hand. He chuckles softly as he recognizes the track.

  
"This is actually my mum's music."

  
Hermann doesn't properly answer, except for a soft "oh" of acknowledgment. They stay together side by side without talking for a few moments, until Hermann finally reaches for the file Newt has been holding in his hand.

  
He frowns as he focuses on Dr. Geiszler's scribbles. Newt leans over to show him a line, temple against temple.

  
"You see, this is a theory I had in mind for a while. How music is the universal language and stuff, you know? Well, I'm pretty sure this is the same kind of cognitive link you get from Drifting, see? I never had the time to do a proper evaluation, but I was talking to Tendo earlier and apparently Mori and Becket listen to music together and, you know, if we could compare the readings from the..." He stops, distracted by Hermann's lips, who is talking. Right. Pay attention, Newt, focus.

  
"A study in music and neurosciences. How mathematical of you, Newt."

Newt blinks and adjusts his glasses, not sure he understands what Hermann is saying. Hermann continues, "Since music is nothing else but math, you see. 2500 years ago, music was identified with the mathematics of that period: The Pythagorean school created them both on the same principles. And actually, the pleasure your human mind experiences with music is from counting without being aware that you're counting. "

  
"Isn't it from Leibniz ...?" Newt interrupts himself one more time, because, he has to check, he has to know. He leans over, and finally catches Hermann's lips with his own. Hermann doesn't pull away, and Newt is actually the one who breaks the kiss.

  
"Newton, what the..."

  
Newt is smiling. He knew it. "You taste like raspberry."

  
Hermann frowns, and starts something like "Yes I just ate some..." before Newt kisses him again, whispering "Exactly like the milky way". Hermann snorts, and his breath tickles Newt. He doesn't tell him that the raspberries in the fridge were his, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I used many elements from the novelization, which includes Newt's theory about music and the Drift. I just have a lot of feels for Newt and music, okay ?


End file.
